Friday, August 7, 2015

STRICTLY POSITIVE

Well, I just got done "watching" the debate. Translated, that means I was able to withstand less than five minutes of that horror show on television, then turned to twitter. Watching my fabulous twitter feed watch the debate was worlds better than watching the debate. This is the perfect time to polish off this post, because I need every bit of positive down below simply to recover from the "military kills people and breaks things" line. I can't believe this is the best we have to offer. I'm convinced no good person in their right mind wants that job. In any event onward and upward with the good things we've got going on this week:

Exhibit A: Bride asks her 89-year-old grandmother to be a bridesmaid. Awesome ensues. Is she adorable or what? (Also, I'm far from a fashion plate, but I'm kinda digging those bridesmaids' dresses. Maybe it's just the color gray. Or taupe. Or whatever that is. Never mind, I'm goofy on the pills, not a good time to finish a post.)

I love her. She looks like a firecracker. Figuratively, of course.

Exhibit B: The winners of the 2015 NatGeo Traveler Photo Contest have been announced. I'm a sucker for a bunch of great photos, and the winner is one of the most beautiful captures I think I've ever seen. Below that is a merit winner that particularly struck my fancy. You can see more here and at the NatGeo site (links provided within the link). I could stare at this all day. It feels somehow all the more powerful in black and white.

Exhibit C: You may have seen this video of a colorblind man seeing purple (among other colors, obv) for the first time, but it's worth a re-watch. Thanks to Shannon for sending this when it first came out. Great stuff most of us take for granted.

Exhibit D: As Good Samaritan stories go, this is a winner. Kaylee Goeman had to take her 6-week-old baby to the hospital and couldn’t afford the $15 parking fee ($15 to park at a hospital? JHC on rollerskates, that's just plain wrong). Instead, she paid a parking meter for four hours of time.
When it became clear her baby would be in the hospital for longer than that, Goeman had a problem. She didn’t want to leave her infant, but worried about getting ticketed or towed. She turned to a local mother’s group on Facebook for help, asking if anyone knew if she would just get a ticket or get towed. What she got was much more, as over the next several hours five women went to the meter to feed it change in order to save Goeman the worry (and a ticket or tow). Hundreds of others chimed in with support. Goodonya ladies. Thanks to Patti for bringing this gem to my attention.

Exhibit E: Elizabeth sent me this fantastic story. On the opening day of the Special Olympics World Games in Los Angeles, spectators at a men's soccer match noticed the team from Haiti not only had no uniforms, but no cleats, making competitive movement difficult to impossible. Heartbroken, spectator Jennifer Albeno, a 29-year-old former college soccer captain from Long Beach, watched one Haitian after another slip and fall on the natural grass. Albeno and other members of the crowd decided they couldn't take it anymore and started taking collections. The fever grew, and ultimately almost $2,000 was collected from individuals and companies (including a CFO named JR Ewing, how awesome is that?). Go read the article, it's a smiler.

Exhibit F: Kleenex at the ready? Get a load of this list of the oldest cats adopted, including this beauty below, adopted by her new adorable 102-year-old owner. They even kinda match. (Elizabeth: Lars and Pumpkin, separated at birth?) This makes me want to take B to the shelter and ask for the oldest cat to take home. The more I look at this picture, I can't decide if it makes me happy or sad. Maybe both.

Exhibit G: Haven't had a goat vine in way too long.

Obligatories: Last week, B and I drove up north to see my nephew play in a baseball tournament and have dinner with my aunt and my cousin's family (so the kids aren't really my nephews, but it's just easier that way; I don't know how many cousins they are removed and that's a stupid system anyway). We sat in the stands with the family, B watched like a champ (balls were involved, after all). Then we went home and played with new puppy Beckett. The boy in the pictures is my younger nephew. Everyone in the family is animal crazy, but he is something special.

A dog-centric magazine voted a particular toy one of the best for dogs. Other than balls, B loves toys she can shake the hell out of and throw about the room and this looked perfect. It arrived today and as soon as I gave it to her she shook it to death, tossed it in the air, then rolled over on her back and played with it until I was ready for our walk. I guess they were right.

Real nephew gets his first skateboard lesson from dad:

That's all she wrote, folks. I hope you all have safe and beautiful weekends. May The Force be with you.

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About Malcolm Avenue Review

I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a nifty, oak-shaded ranch house on Malcolm Avenue, a wide-laned residential street with little through traffic, located amid the foothills of Northern California. It was on that street and in that house I learned most of my adolescent life lessons, and many grown-up ones to boot. Malcolm Avenue was "home" for more than thirty years.

It was on Malcolm Avenue, through and with my family and the other families that made up our neighborhood of characters, that I first learned about and gained an appreciation for the things I continue to love the most to this day: music, animals, photography, sports, television/movies and, of course, books.

I owe a debt of gratitude to that life on Malcolm Avenue. It gave me a sense of community and friendship, support and adventure. For better and worse, life on that street likely had the biggest impact on the person I've become. So this blog, and the things I write here, are all, at their base level, a little bit of a love letter to Malcolm Avenue.